


Reignite

by Wimex



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Amputee, F/M, Grumpy Henry, Henry has a potty mouth, Henry is done with Joey, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and all his bs, war veteran Henry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-25 09:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14974706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wimex/pseuds/Wimex
Summary: 30 years had passed since Henry was drafted into the war, having to leave behind Joey Drew's Studio and his passion for animation. 27 years had passed since he was discharged.Now, seemingly out of nowhere, Henry receives an old, yellowed, and ink stained letter from none other than Joey Draw himself inviting him to to see the old studio. Will Henry accept Joey's invitation, or not?





	1. Chapter 1

The day usually starts off the same for Henry.

Wake up with the alarm, turn it off, sit up and grab the crutch before leaving the room as silently as possible, then make his way to the kitchen to turn the kettle on. Coffee is the most important drink after all. Grab two cups and put a spoon of instant coffee into both cups, but only one with a sugar and a half. Next, put bread into the toaster, and place the jams onto the kitchen table. The kettle goes off, so pour the now hot water into the waiting cups of coffee. Always make sure to put milk into the cup with sugar. Place both cups on the table alongside the jam. The toast will pop next, so he’ll grab them and put one toast into two different plates, before taking those to the kitchen table as well. Finally, take the seat closest to the wall, lean the crutch on the wall before finally enjoying that first sip of black coffee. It wouldn’t be too long after until Linda would enter the kitchen, kiss his closest cheek, take the opposite seat and enjoying her own coffee with … Uhh, It looks likes strawberry jam on toast today.

All in all, life was consistent, average, and safe. At least, that is what Henry though.

It wouldn’t be too long before he would need to leave for his consistent, average, and safe job though. Office work was boring and definitely not what he would have liked, but it paid the bills.

\--

Henry was happy that it was Friday. After work, he was offered by his co-workers to head to the pub for a drink and loosen up after the working week, but declined saying that his leg was playing up. Pulling his car up onto the driveway, he noticed that Linda’s car was missing.

Walking through the front door, Henry locked it and leaned back against it before sighing _. ‘What a day.’_ He thought before pushing off the door, and headed towards the kitchen. He flicked the lights on in the kitchen and wiggled out of his suit pants before taking a seat. Henry was more than glad to take his prosthetic leg off. The scar on the end of the stub was itching.

After being drafted into the war in 1941, Henry spent the next year training. The next two after that was spent on the Western Front. During his service on an operation behind the enemy lines, Henry’s squad was spotted and even though they managed to fight off the opposing forces, a grenade was thrown as a last ditch effort, right in the middle of the squad. Two men were killed, and seven others were injured. Henry was one of the more severe cases. The explosion caused a large piece of wood to drive into the lower part of his left calf, and poke out on the other side of his leg. Unfortunately the medic of the group was one of the ones that were killed, and the squad was forced to retreat to the closest allied camp.

By the time they managed to get there, Henry’s wound had inflammed and festered leaving him in agonizing pain. The doctor had tried to clean the wound up, but after a few days had declared the wound had become necrotic all through the wound, and had to amputate the lower part of the leg just below the knee.

It saved Henry’s life, but the cost of losing a limb had caused him to be discharged from service. Linda had been in tears when she had seen him, happy that he had survived from the ordeal.

Henry had been wheelchair bound during the recovery stage. Linda had been supportive of him the entire time, taking him to doctor appointments, as well as physiotherapy appointments. It had been a dark time in Henry’s life, but Linda was like an unmovable beacon of hope through it all, and he knew he could never repay her for that. It wasn’t too long after that Henry got his own prosthetic. It was this rubber and plastic contraption with metal joints, and Henry didn’t take a liking to it at first. Using it was tricky, and a bit uncomfortable on his freshly scared leg, and it was a struggle to walk with it even with a clutch. After the first week, he was more than ready to thrown it into the bin, but Linda convinced him to keep trying, and so he did, even if it was just for her. A few months in, Henry, was able to walk with the prosthetic without any kind of support. Things started to get better for him then. As the years went by, he became less, and less depended on his crutch, even if he kept a slight limp in his walk. There still came a time once in a while where he would need it.

Then there were the random times where Henry still able to feel his limb as if it hadn’t been removed at all. His doctor called it a phantom limb, where the brain can still feel the missing part of his leg. It was an itchy feeling, which was exactly what Henry was feeling at the moment.

After scratching the stub and sighing in relief, he leaned back into the chair and looked onto the table. Linda had left the mail with his name on it, and on top, a little hand written note.

_Hey Hen,_

_Barb had called, saying that she needed help arranging her garage. (I have no idea why though!) You know how she gets when it comes to organising! I swear my sister is useless, but hey, she also offered dinner when we were done. Sorting things out might be a nightmare when it comes to her, but her cooking is probably the best, plus she has wine! The good stuff! Yes! I promise I’ll only have one glass though, still got to drive home after all. I won’t be home until late, but there are left overs in the fridge that you just need to warm up. Don’t worry, I’ll bring some of Barb’s delicious leftovers home for you too._

_Love you! XX_

Henry snorted with a smile and put aside Linda’s note, before picking up the small pile of letters. Bills, a catalogue in a letter, but what caught his attention was the last letter. It was slightly yellowed around the corners with one of the corners looked like ink had spilled and saturated it. It was clearly addressed to him. Turning the letter around, he noticed there was no sender address.

“Looks like it’s a hundred years old.” He mumbled to himself as he casually ripped one of the ends off and pulled the letter out. The back of the letter, curiously so, also had some ink specks on it, but the all the edges had looked like it had been dipped in ink. The entire thing looked even more yellow than the envelope it had come up. Henry gave it a weird look before flipping it around and reading it.

_DEAR HENRY,_

_IT SEEMS LIKE A LIFETIME AGO SINCE WE WORKED ON CARTOONS TOGETHER. 30 YEARS REALLY SLIPS AWAY, DOESN’T IT?_

_IF YOU’RE BACK IN TOWN, COME VISIT THE OLD WORKSHOP. THERE’S SOMETHING I NEED TO SHOW YOU._

_YOU’RE BEST PAL,_

_JOEY DREW_

“… You got to be kidding me.”

\--

“I mean, I just don’t get it! ‘You’re best pal’?! He can’t be serious!” Henry complained from the bedrooms ensuite, as he shaved. Linda, already in bed and reading, looked up over her glasses and stared at Henry.

“Maybe he just wants to reconnect to you. You both used to be the best of friends after all. You should go and see him at least. ” Henry scoffed before rinsing his blade and placing it besides the sink. He grabbed a towel and dried his face, and looked over to Linda, who was still staring at him over her reading glasses. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Linda, I tried to contact him all those years ago, remember? I wanted to get back into animating, work on the cartoons again. I thought that since I was sent home, if I just contact him we could at least talk, but nope! I never got a reply back from him. I even sent a letter to his house address, and even then I got nothing, not even a single reply. But now, thirty years later, he wants to show me something? Oh wait, I’m sorry, he ‘ _needs_ ’ to show me something. HA! Yeah right.” Henry said. He grabbed his crutch before headed towards the bed to join Linda.

“I understand that we had a bit of a heated argument when I told him I was leaving.”

“Understatement of the century. You’re also quite a hothead too Hen, I know you wouldn’t have remained calm in that situation, no matter what you’ve told me.” Linda added, as she moved the blankets so Henry could sit down.

He leaned his crutch on the wall and slid into the bed and put the blankets over him. He stared at his hands as he rubbed them. “How was I supposed to know he would be so livid! I was drafted, it’s not like I couldn’t go. I thought he would understand that! And I guess arguing back to him about it didn’t help. The studio was doing so good, the Bendy cartoons were doing so well, I’m sure we could have expanded! Get more talent into the studio. If I got back, smooth things over with Joey, we could have probably been as popular as Walt Disney! The possibilities at the time were endless.” Henry sighed. He looked over to Linda.

“Anyway, I guess boot camp kind of pushed the argument to the back of my mind. I know there were more important issues that I needed to deal with. It just gets me so angry knowing that he wants to get into contact now, after all this time.”

“What ever happened in the past, should stay in the past. I know that the whole thing has left an ugly mark on both of you. Though, that said, should still try to get into connect with him again, clear up the air. Perhaps seeing Joey in person instead of sending a letter might be the right step.”

“But … Linda … Damn, I hate when you’re right. There is still something in me that wants to fix what friendship I had with Joey, despite how annoyed I am at him.” Linda just smiled. She slipped her bookmark into the book before placing it on her bedside table.

“Well, it is Saturday tomorrow, and even though it’s just over an hour drive, you should go. See how the old studio is going. Talking about the studio, I haven’t seen a cartoon made by them in a while.”

“Neither have I.” Henry mumbled in thought. “Well, they still have to be in business. The letter says that the studio is still there … Even _if_ the letter looks incredibly old. What? He can’t spend a bit of money on new paper, and has to send an ink stained, yellow letter to me?” He scowled before laying down “I don’t know Linda. Maybe I’m just getting all worked up over this but I’m just getting a nagging feeling in my gut about all this, and I don’t know if it is a good one or not.”

“Well you’ll find out tomorrow.” She leaned over and turned off the lamp.

\--

After the usual morning routine and saying goodbye to Linda, Henry headed off to the studio.

In his deep blue 1968 Plymouth Road Runner with his window rolled down, Henry drove into the town where the studio resided. Stopping at a traffic light, he tapped a finger on his steering wheel along to the tune of the Beatles ‘Twist and Shout’ as it played on the radio, as he looked around. Not much had changed in the town. There was a few new buildings, and some business that had replaced others. The lights turned green and he drove off. Driving down the main street, Henry noticed that the café he used to go too had been replaced by shoe shop. Oh well. They used to make great cappuccinos.

After a few turns, Henry had finally turned into the street where the studio resided. Coming up noticed that the small employee carpark in front of the building was strangely empty. Henry knew that people worked on the weekend. He remembered having a discussion with Joey about letting staff having the weekend off, only to come to a compromise to have Sundays off.

Henry parked his car at the end of the lot and looked down at the passenger seat. The letter Joey wrote to him sat there and Henry gave it a hard look. He skimmed the writing then closed his eyes and inhaled deeply releasing his anger at all of this, before grabbing it and getting out of his car. He locked the door and slipped the key into his back pocket with his trusty multi tool. He looked up at the studio, seeing the massive ‘Joey Drew Studio’ sign. The sign looked old, like it hasn’t been maintained throughout the years. He then glanced all over the building, noticing all the wear and tear. ‘ _What happened here? It looks like an abandoned building. Is the studio really doing that terribly?’_ He walked to the front door, grabbed the handle, but didn’t turn it. He knew if he went in there, something was going to change, whether good or bad. The feeling in his gut told him it was going to be the latter. He really was hoping that it wasn’t.

“Alright Joey. I’m here. Let’s see if we can find what you wanted me to see.” ‘ _Then I’m out of here.’_ Holding his breath, Henry turned the knob and walked into the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been working on this story for about a month now, and couple chapters have already been completed. This is the first time I've worked on any sort of creative writing in about six or seven years! It's been a long time, whew! Kind of nervous about posting it, ha!
> 
> This chapter has not been beta'd.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Henry noticed was just how dilapidated the building was inside. Despite the low lighting that the building still somehow had access to, the inside was definitely worst off than the outside. Dust particles were danced around his sight as they reflected light. Old cobwebs sat in corners, but what caught his attention was a heavy leak to his left. Whatever was leaking from the roof definitely wasn’t water, unless the building somehow now dyed their water black.

He walked to the strange leak, lifting a hand and only letting his finger touch the strange liquid. He rubbed the liquid between his fingers, before squinting at it and brought it up to his nose to sniff it. He quickly moved his head back staring perplexed at the offending liquid. “What in the …? T-This is ink!”

He quickly shot his eyes up to the ink from the roof, bewildered. Where did all this ink come from?! Last he checked, ink usually came in glass bottles. He quickly shook his head, wiped his finger on the wall before moving to the end of the hallway and into the main room.

The room was familiar, a small projector that usually showing completed projects, was now tilted to one side. A Bendy cutout sat beside it. He gave it a small, but sad smile before glancing at the rest of the room.

A small desk in the middle of two pillars would have been for the receptionist. What was new to him was the large sign that was placed behind the desk. The ‘Joey Drews Studio’ label complete with three large rotating reels behind it. Henry had to admit, it was a nice touch.

One thing that was consistent all around the room was how run-down it seemed. A hole in a wall that was crudely covered with planks and paper was scattered around the room.

Henry thought it looked like dump.

The place was clearly abandoned. He could neither see, nor hear anyone. He pulled out Joey’s letter from his pocket and gave it a quick read, before looking up and scowling in annoyance. He turned around and headed for the exit.

“What a waste of time. Joey is probably getting a laugh out of all this.” He grumbled to himself as he walked to the exit, careful to dodge the ink leak, which was still coming down in large amounts and disappearing somewhere in the floor. He grasped the handle and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t move. He gave the door a bit of a harder turn, and a jostle for good measure, but it still wouldn’t move. It was locked and Henry let out a snarl and he wacked it once with an open palm.

“If this is some kind of prank, it isn’t funny! Open the door Joey! I know it was you!” He waited a good three seconds then deeply inhaled, before letting out a controlled exhale and glared at the door. _‘Fine, let’s play your game’_ Henry thought before turning around and walking back into the main room.

Not bothering to look around the main room anymore, he headed into the right hall and was greeted by a directional plaque.

◄ Art Department  
Ink Machine ►  
Theatre ►  
Break Room ►

He turned his head to look back behind him. Henry knew that the Art Department was behind him. It used to be where he worked as Art Director. Despite being the Co-Founder of the Studio, he never wanted his own office, preferring to work alongside the other animators.

Henry looked back at the plaque and the second room mention on the list. Ink Machine? What was an ink machine?! Curiosity getting the better of him, Henry continued his was before he suddenly stopped.

Right in front of him across the wall in big, bold letters, written in probably the same ink that has been spilling from the roof, was three words.

“’Dreams come true’ huh? Only if you let them.” He muttered and he turned to continue down the hallway. Straight ahead he could see a sign on an arch saying ‘Ink Machine’, and fastened his pace towards it. As Henry made his way down the hallway, he saw light coming out from underneath a door just to his left. The light reflected off a large black pipe just opposite to the wall. Getting closer to it, he could faintly hear music drifting out. He gave the door three sharp knocks.

“Hello, is anyone in there?” He called out. No one replied. He gave the door another few knocks and called out once more. Still, he received no reply. Discouraged and with a quick down turn of his lips, he walked away from the door and went back to his original course to the Ink Machine room. Reaching the end of the hall way, he stared at what was an ink output schedule chart.

Henry looked at it with bafflement as his eyes scanned through the days on the chart and noticed how much gallons the studio was using. Why did the studio even _need_ this much ink. The week ended with a total of 423 gallons of the stuff. It was underlined with two exclamation marks. Whoever this T.C Gent officer was seemed to be the one who had written all the numbers down. Judging from how they wrote the total amount, they also seemed to be shocked as Henry. That, or annoyed at the Studio’s usage.

Henry started to walk while giving the chart one final glance, only to lose his footing and trip. He managed to bring his arms up just in time to land on his forearms, and not on his face. As he laid on the floor in confusion and to catch his breath, he thanked his lucky stars. He really didn’t want to be stuck here with a broken nose.

He slowed his breathing and flipped over to see what had tripped him. A thick black pipe ran across the floor, entering the hallway from one side, and exiting the other. The trip had caused the pipe to get a small crack, not enough to shatter it, but big enough that ink started to leak out. … Wait a second! Ink! That was probably how all that ink was leaking from the roof at the entrance. The ink pipe must to lead straight to the Art Department but got ruptured on the way.

Henry got up when he noticed that the ink puddle underneath the pipe was growing, using the wall as a support.

Who puts a large pipe in the middle of a hallway though? “Of course. Joey Drew.” Henry angrily whispered to himself and pushed off the wall to continue to the ink machine room. When he took his first step he yet again lost his balance and landed his left shoulder into the wall.

_‘Huh?’_ He quickly looked down. Nothing was on the ground. He lifted his leg to look underneath his shoe, but as he did, the problem showed itself to him. The foot on his prosthetic was loose, swinging side to side on its ankle joint. The trip from the pipe must have knocked a screw loose. He didn’t think he hit it that hard.

“Fucking Joey Drew.” He growled at annoyance to the man. He took out the multi tool from his back pocket and looked behind at the ink spill. It was getting too large for him to sit on the floor and tighten his foot up there. Looking around him, Henry couldn’t find anything to sit on, but he saw that the hallway opened up just ahead in what he presumed was the Ink Machine room. He slipped his tool back into his back pocket.

He used the wall as a support as he walked his way to the room, careful not to put too much weight onto his prosthetic. Entering onto a balcony, he quickly saw a crate to his left and sat down as he entered the room. He propped his prosthetic over his right knee, rolled up his pants, and rolled down his sock before whipping out his multi tool then giving the foot a critical look. He gave the foot a wiggle, and the centre screw jiggled in its slot. Henry took the philip head screwdriver part from his multi tool and started to tighten the screw just to see an even bigger problem.

The joint had a fracture. Henry held his breath as he used the philip head to slightly push the screw to one side. As he applied more and more pressure, the crack opened up. The ankle joint had cracked all the way through. He swore under his breath.

So much for his lucky stars. He would have rather a broken nose than the broken leg joint. At least he could have snapped his nose back into place, as painful as that was. If the joint completely broke, he would either need to find a replacement piece or a crutch. An ankle joint just wouldn’t exist in the studio, unless someone after his time had a prosthetic like him, which was unlikely. He tightened the screw as he grumbled profanities towards Joey hoping he could hear him. Despite the crack, the screw held well, and the foot no longer wiggled around. He slipped his tool back into his back pocket.

As he placed his prosthetic back onto the ground he took a hesitant breath in and stood up, using the wall as a support once again. Henry slowly put his weight onto that foot testing it to see if it would break. Thankfully, it didn’t. He walked back and forth in the little space that was available. No problems. He just had to remember not to put too much strain on it just in case. Satisfied, he looked up and around the room.

It looked like a warehouse with its big open space and tall roof. Sunlight filtered through as well, lighting up specks of dust as they casually floating around the room. Large industrial chains also dangled down in what seems to be an endless pit right in the middle of the room. Large ink pipes sat on either side of the room, connecting from floor to wall. Not noticing anything that looked like a machine, Henry concluded that this Ink Machine must be connected to the chains.

Grabbing the lever to his right, he flicked it down. Nothing happened, so he flicked it back up. He saw that a power generator that was next to the lever. It was an older model one that took two large power cells, but it was empty.

Looking behind him, he noticed a single cell sitting on the shelf and took it. Henry didn’t notice any other around the shelving so he opened the crate that he used to sit down on, hoping there was another cell. He would have to hate to go around the Studio looking for another cell. Thankfully, there was another one inside of it and he grabbed that one as well.

He slotted both power cells into the slots of the generator and flicked the switch. The chains groaned then shrieked, as if they haven’t been used in a long time. The sound was deafening, and it reverberated around the room and Henry was forced to cover his ears. After a moment, it stopped and Henry put his hands on the railing. The chains clattered and they moved up and down. Then, like an unveiling, the large, bulking Ink Machine was lifted into the light of the room and stopped with a hiss of steam in the middle of the air, suspended on nothing but those large chains.

Henry leaned forward to get a closer look at it, his mouth open in shock as he stared at the monstrosity of the Machine. The pit is came from was just large enough to fit it. It had a wide nozzle at the front, what looked like a piston above it with a drain right underneath it. Its body resembled a cube, and had gears on the side, with a large ink pipe curling around the top. Behind it look to be a large tank, stored full of ink and beneath it looked to be several large tubing connecting to the machine, which disappeared into the darkness. To Henry, the machine with all tubes and pipes, looked like it circulated the ink, taking in old ink from the tubing, only to pump it back out again, like …

“ … A heart.” He realized. He looked down to the ink pipes at either side of the room, as well as the other pipes he saw in the other room. The Machine was designed to pump ink throughout the studio, as if it was a body, and the ink was its blood. Henry took a step back, aghast at what he just thought.

“Joey … Is this what you wanted me to see? What have you created?” Henry whispered to himself as he still stared at the contraption.

Suddenly alarmed, he quickly looked around himself, expected the Studio itself to come alive and eat him whole, or something worse! He halted almost instantly and placed and hand on his head. That was a ridiculous thought. He shook his head as if it could get those paranoid thoughts out of his head and glanced back at the Ink Machine. Maybe Joey wanted him to turn it on. Perhaps the entrance of the studio would unlock and he’ll be able to leave. Maybe this was all part of some elaborate game Joey was playing on it. All the paranoid thoughts quickly left him as he scowled at the thought. He would have definitely not put is past Joey to do something like this.

“Fine then Joey, you bastard,” Henry gave the machine a glare, before he walked out the room, progressively getting more and more infuriated by the minute, “How do you turn this blasted thing on?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would not believe how many times I wrote stupid instead of studio in this chapter.
> 
> I was originally going to upload this tomorrow, but I got a call a couple of days ago from the hospital saying that they needed a patient who wasn't going to have a complicated surgery and booked me in. It's only day surgery and I should only be in the hospital for a few hours, but since I'll be under anesthetic I don't think I'd be able to upload this tomorrow, so yay! A chapter a day early!
> 
> This chapter has not been beta'd. On that note, hey, I'm looking for a beta :D


	3. Chapter 3

Leaving the Ink Machine hallway, careful to step over the ink pipe prosthetic first, he went right, straight into another hallway that was blocked by a shutter door before and came up to a T section. Quickly looking both ways, Henry went right. A singular cutout of Bendy managed to make his decision for him.

As he walked down the hallway, he passed a few locked doors which he did check to see if they were open, and drawing desk of all things. Why it was here and not in the Art Department, Henry would never know. It was a strange place to put it, in the middle of walkway.

“Oh shi-” Henry jumped as a plank of wood fell from the ceiling and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed around the studio as he looked up at the roof. It was fully intact. The plank of wood that landed on the floor didn’t even need to be on the roof in the first place. Henry gave the piece of wood a hard looked, while concentration on his breathing to slow his racing heart. As soon as it was under control, he went to the right.

The break room. It was here where he would catch up with employees and relax a bit before going back to work. He had a few good memories here, getting to know more about the people who work here at the studio, ranging from their down-to-earth projectionist Norman Polk, who proudly talking about his teenaged daughter who was working hard to become a pilot, to the much more serious Sammy Lawrence, that the other employees secretly made bets to see who could make the musician genuine laugh. Henry admittedly placed bets on it. He put his money on Wally Franks, their young janitor who was wonderfully at his job, but tended to lose his keys once in a while.

Those memories were now shadows in this mind. The break room he walked into didn’t resemble anything like what he remembered. Gone were the couches, chairs and tables. Gone was the chalkboard where each department kept quotas, and employees wrote reminders to each other. It was all replaced with what looked like pedestals, which had their own connected ink pipe, with a picture of an object on top of them.

The large chalkboard which used to sit right at the end of room now housed a switch. On either side of the switch ran U shaped pipes, and on the side of those, machines now lined the walls. A large sign above it all said ‘Ink Machine Main power’. Just beside that was a small pulsing light gauge saying that the pipes had low pressure.

Okay, so all he had to do was find the switch that worked the ink pressure. Question was, where was that? Looking around the room, Henry was careful the walk over the exposed floor pipes, and ink puddles so he didn’t trip again and break his foot entirely off. Henry couldn’t find where the pressure switch was. It had to be in another room. With what seems like a common occurrence today, Henry muttered a curse to Joey under his breath for not making life easy as he set off to find the pressure switch.

“Fuck!” Henry yelled and jumped in shock as a Bendy cutout stood right in the middle of the hallway, right where the wooden plank was. Standing frozen for a second, Henry hesitantly walked up to the cut out. It was angle to face right at the break room.

’ _Who put this here?’_ He quickly looked down the hallway that lead back into the main hall but it was empty. As he went to look behind the cutout, he froze as his eyes focused on the room beyond. It looked … It looked like there was a body strapped on to something. What a body was doing in here, Henry had no idea.

He couldn’t make out the details, so after a quick back and forth in his head, he decided to get closer to the body. Sucking in a breath he moved into the room.

“Impossible … I-Is that Boris?! Oh my god. Joey, what were you doing?” Henry was shocked as he stood in front of what looked like one of the cartoon characters he had created. It was completely absurd! There was no reasonable way Boris could be strapped down onto a table in front of him, but there he was.

Boris’ chest was torn open, exposing a broken rib case with the ribs themselves facing outward. The internal organs were missing, and in their place was a single wrench, sticking out like a sore thumb. His head was tilted to the side and his eyes were crossed out, like a cartoon characters would be indicating that they’ve died.

Henry looked around, and saw that ink was everywhere. It poured out of the roof, splattering behind Boris. There was also a message written on the wall to the left.

“ _’Who’s laughing now?’_ ” Henry quickly looked back at Boris, then back to the wall. Definitely not him. This entire room had to be some kind of macabre art piece. There was no way Boris could exist and just be strapped to a table. Henry pulled a face and walked out of the room. He still needed to find a switch.

The Bendy cutout was still in the middle of the hallway. It hadn’t suddenly moved. Coming up to the T way again, he went straight. If memory served him correct, it would lead him into the animation test theatre.

Half way there, sitting on a small table was an old recorder, with no name attached to the cassette tape inside of it. Sparking his curiousity, he sat in a chair next to the table and pressed play.

 _“At this point, I don’t get what Joey’s plan is for this company.”_ Wally Franks Brooklyn accented voice came through. He sounded disgruntled. _“The animations sure aren’t being finished on time anymore. And I certainly don’t see why we need this machine. It’s noisy, it’s messy. And who needs that much ink anyway”_ Henry had to agree with him. _“Also, get this, Joey had each one of us donate something from our work stations. We put them on these little pedestals in the break room. To help appease the gods, Joey says. Keep things going.”_ Henry pulled a face. Appease the gods? What? _“I think he’s lost his mind, but, hey, he writes the checks._

 _“But I tell you what, if one more of these pipes burst, I’m outta here.”_ He rubbed his chin in confusion as the tape clicked off. What was Wally going on about Joey? Henry, in all his years that he had known Joey, never perceived the man as a religious type. Just how much had Joey changed when Henry left? Henry placed a hand on the table and pushed himself up, not wanting to dwell on the topic. He continued his was to the theatre room.

As it seems, he was right, the hallway did lead to it. Besides a broken ink pipe that was dripping ink onto the floor, and a couple of chairs that had been tipped on their side, the room hadn’t really changed.

Carefully stepping over the ink spill, Henry saw a little Bendy toy sitting on the chair facing the projector screen, as if it was waiting to watch whatever will appear on it. He picked it up and gave it a small squeeze. With its crooked smile, it squeaked in response. Despite what has happened in the workshop, the little toy managed to make him smile and let out a soft laugh. Against all reasoning to put it back down and not to bring it with him, Henry held onto the little doll. He had a soft spot for his little dancing demon.

Looking into the corner, he saw the Ink Pressure valve.

“Finally.” He put the little Bendy doll in his pocket and gripped the valve and turned it. Nothing happened. He scowled, and just as he was about to curse to Joey for the umpteenth time, his mind quickly went back to Wally’s recording regarding the pedestals in the break room, and appeasing the gods. He pulled the little devil from his pocket and gave it a look before it all clicked.

The break room had little pictures depicting something above each pedestal. It was all something random, one was a record, another had been an inkwell. Every image was all different.

But they weren’t random pictures like he originally thought. One picture was a silhouette of Bendy that was off model. The picture wasn’t a version of an off-model Bendy, the picture was a silhouette was of the Bendy doll.

Henry quickly made his way back to the break room, and placed the Little Devil Darling on his spot. As if it weight a lot more than it did, the pedestal sunk down, a click echoed through the room, and a spotlight above it lit up. Henry looked around at the other frames in the room. Finding all the pieces would be mostly easy.

He already knew where he could find an ink well. The Art Department was his lair back in the day, and if he knew the artists well, which he did, they would start fretting when they were low on their ink.

A record could be found in Sammy’s small office he had up here. His main office could be found in the Music Department, a few floors beneath the floor Henry was on. Henry was sure he could find a record in the small office. After all, he heard music coming from it earlier.

Henry recalled a gear that was sitting in the same trunk he had pulled one of the power cells out of back in the Ink Machine room. He would be sure to make sure he kept his eye on the pipe that ran across the hallway this time. He didn’t want to trip again and put that much stress on his foot and successfully break it off.

A wrench was needed as well, and he definitely remembered where one was. It was sitting right inside the chest cavity of Boris. He really didn’t want to go anywhere near the horrid thing, even less so with reaching out and pulling the wrench out. Henry swallowed. He would do that last.

The hardest thing to find would be the one that looked like a book. It could mean anything. Was it Grants accounting book? The receptionist’s appointment book? A book could really mean anything. Henry had to be on a look out on any kind of book that stood out, at least he hoped for. If it was a book that blended in with everything else, he was going to punch Joey right in his nose when he found him.

Deeply inhaling and then slowly exhaling, he gave the little Bendy doll a small smile and pat on the head before headed out the room to find all the other pieces.

\--

After going around the studio and collecting all the parts, Henry sighed in relief has the walked to the right pedestals for each object. He was careful not to touch the Boris, and extra careful when stepping over the pipe that was across the room. The book had definitely stood out in the new break room. ‘The Illusion of Living by Joey Drew’? He only got more questions with no answers. He still wanted to punch Joey in the nose though, for putting him through all this. Maybe afterwards, he’ll forgive him.

The Art Department was actually a surprise to him. It was much larger than what he remembered. More shockingly was that his old drawing desk was still there, completed with a few concept pieces of Bendy taped to it. One piece with different smile, and another with a slightly different body, more buffer than the final chubby design. He was sure Joey would have thrown it out, after their Henry left. Their argument was a very heated one. To find that his desk, as well as a rejected concept art was only pushed into a corner, was a nice little find.

Finally, he put the last piece onto its respected spot, a record that was in Sammy’s small office. Once the pedestal sunk down, and the spotlight came on, he headed out of the room. He stopped and looked around. Where did the Bendy cut out go? It had disappeared into nowhere, just like how it appeared. Deciding not to question it, he headed for the theatre room.

Turning into the final hallway to the room, the Bendy cut out popped his head out at the end of the hallway and when back into its hiding spot, giving Henry a jump.

“Oh shi-! Who’s there?! Show yourself!” Henry yelled as he rushed down the hallway, his heart racing, and turned the corner, an hardened look in his eyes. There was no one to be found, except for the cut out leaning against the wall next to him.

He quickly looked around him before eyeballing the cutout. Bendy just gave him his signature grin. He picked it up and looked behind it. Nothing, not even a vent for something to crawl through. He put the cut out back against the wall and gave it the biggest frown he could muster, and poke at it with his index.

“Stop that.” Bendy just kept smiling at him. He gave the cut out one last poke before heading back into the room. He had a valve to turn.

He was careful and he went down the steps and suddenly, the projector and sound turned on, cause Henry to jump and twist his eyes to the screen. An animation of Bendy was bouncing up and down to a whistling tune. Clenching his fists, he tried to control his breathing and heart rate from the shock. First the cut out and now the projector. He was getting too old for all these scares. When he got his racing heart under control, he turned his attention to the valve.

Standing in front of it, he gripped it tightly and for a second time he turned it. Success! The wheel turned and Henry could hear the pipes begin to become pressurized.

Then he heard something shatter in the room followed by splashing. The leaking pipe had burst open and ink was now quickly filling the room. Henry gasped and quickly moved back near the valve. The ink flood had stabilized before it reached the platform.  
  
Looking around the now flooded theatre, Henry saw no way of leaving the room. No tables he could have stepped on, nor any kind of shelving he could grabble across. He had to walk through the ink. Gripping the wall, he put his foot in first. He shuddered as he felt the ink saturate his shoe and sock. His pants were absorbing the ink and it was creeping up his pants. He then put his prosthetic in.

 _‘It’s gonna be a pain to clean it.’_ He grumpily thought to himself as he used his good foot to navigate through the ink, not wanting his other foot to get caught on anything. Managing to maneuver around the waterfall of ink, he quickly made it to the other side and more than happily skipped the steps and stepped straight up to the hallway.

“Ughh, this is worse than water,” he groaned as he wiggled his toes, feeling the ink slosh around uncomfortably around them. He shook as much of the ink off his prosthetic carefully. The ink had seeped into the cracked ankle joint highlighting it against the rest of the metal joint. It was getting larger, but it hadn’t begun to loosen.

He needed to take his shoe off his other foot though. Sliding down the wall opposite to the Bendy cutout, he slid his shoe off and tried to shake the ink out of it. He looked up at the cutout.  
  
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Bendy. I’ll probably laugh if it happened to you too. Would be an awful experience with your big shoes, huh?” Bendy continued to smile at him as he took his sock off and twisted it trying to get as much ink out of it as he could. He did the same with the other foot. Quickly slipping his sock and shoe back on, he stood up and headed back to the break room. It was time to turn the power on.

On his way, he could hear banging and thumping echoing throughout the studio and it put him on edge. He slow down and his eyes darted all around. He knew that there had to be someone around, and that it was most likely Joey. Bendy cutouts don’t move by themselves, and lock doors don’t magically become unlock. Henry wondered when he would finally show himself so he could slap the man with a wet sock, if he didn’t knock him out first.

Henry entered the old Breakroom without Joey showing himself. Damn.

The light next to the switch indicated that it was ready. He wasted no time and flipped it. Spotlights turned on shining down from two sides of the room, and the studio creaked and groaned loudly as ink rushed through the network of pipes. Henry listened to the sounds as it calmed down and became a steady hum behind the walls. It felt like the studio itself had darkened, like it was awoken from a deep slumber. It felt like something was watching him.

“Not terrifying at all.” he whispered to himself as he cautiously walked out of the room. The Boris corpse was now squirting ink out of his chest cavity, making an audible sound as it came out and landed on the fall. Henry made a face and quickly turned away and hurried towards the Ink Machine room.

There were ink footsteps on the floor leading down to the new break room. Whoever made those footsteps had locked the door. Henry gave up on it and hurried along. As soon as he met Joey, he was leaving. He would drag the man to the front entrance if it meant opening up the locked front door. The inky footsteps came from the ink machine room. Funny, it could have sworn there were no other doors down this way.

Stepping over the pipe, and turning the corner, the archway leading towards the balcony was boarded up! _‘What?! How is the even possible! I didn’t hear anyone hammering!’_ Henry screamed internally. Just beyond he could see that the Ink Machine was on. The gears were turning and ink was gushing out of its nozzle, and down into the catch drain beneath it.

He moved it closer to get a better look. He grip onto the wooden planks and just as he was about to climb through something shot up, and grab his shirt through wood and pulled him close.  
  
Bendy looked down at him, with a big grin on his face.

But this was inconceivable! There was no possible way, but here Bendy was, not only standing right in front of him, but gripping his shirt and not letting him go!

This Bendy though, whatever it was, was not of the same design he had created long ago. Where his bright happy eyes were, was completely covered in dripping ink making his signature smile feel twisted and unwelcoming. He was also so tall, so thin and boney. Even though he couldn’t see it, hand gripping him felt too small. His was breathing deeply through his teeth. It sounded very wet.

“Oh fuck!” Henry shouted fearfully and tried to pull away using the wooden planks as leverage, but Bendy would not budge with his grip. Breathing hard and fast, Henry kept struggling but kept his eyes trained on Bendy. The only thing the demon was doing was looking at him, tilting his head side to side making his horns jiggle like jelly, and nothing else.

A loud creaking sound came from above Henry, but he was too focused on Bendy whose own head shot up to the roof above Henry. Before he knew it, Bendy had shoved him hard back, and he fell and slid across the floor. Not a second later, the roof had caved in. Disorientated, Henry put a hand on his head and looked up. Ink was pouring out of the roof, like a water fall and Bendy was nowhere to be seen.

Another cracking sound appeared right above him and the roof began the bulge. Without a second thought, Henry scurry up as fast as he could and ran. The roof broke in and the flow of ink just kept coming. Soon creaking and cracking of the wood was all around him, and ink was leaking from inbetween the gaps of wood. The whole building was coming down, and he needed to get out of here!

Jumping over the pipe that was along the floor, Henry ran as fast as he could to the front door. The sound of wood breaking was following closely behind him, and ink was flooding the floor and dripping all over him, but he could care less. Twisting and turning around corners, he finally saw the entrance hallway. He didn’t care if the door was locked, he was going to ram it down.

“Come on Henry, move!” He yelled at himself. Building up as much speed as he could in the ink flood, he ran into the hallway. Just as he was about to reach the door which was now ajar and streaming sunlight in, the floor boards shattered beneath him and with a shout he fell deeper into the studio and wacked his head hard against the floor boards and effectively breaking more off.

He landed in a room flooded with ink. Unfortunately, it couldn’t completely buffer his fall and ended up landing most of his weight on his prosthetic foot before losing balance and topping completely into the ink.

He quickly came up and gasped for air while trying not to get any ink into his mouth. He shook his head hard to get the ink off, as well as his hands. It wasn’t really successful, but it was able to get his eyes open. He shot his head up to the hole he fell through. Ink was dripping down along the walls and the top of the pit was just dark.

He was half expecting Bendy to pop his head over the top, but nothing came. 

Henry’s footing was unstable. He must have damaged the joint even more when he landed, but he couldn’t do anything about it now so he used his hands to balance himself in the ink as if he was treading water. He look around the room he was in a noticed few floor boards managed to float to the surface of the ink. The flood came up to his waist, and was quickly cooling him down to a shiver. He needed to get out of the ink, but the only way out was a doorway that was covered with a pile of furniture. Someone didn’t want anyone entering the lower levels of the studios. That didn’t help him though. There was no other way out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a valve connected to an ink pipe. Henry slowly made his way to the valve and turned it. The ink began to drain all around him leaving puddles around the room.

Letting go of the valve he carefully sat of the floor and propped his leg up and once again took out his multitool to tighten the joint.

The crack was far worse that it was, jiggling unnaturally side to side, causing the metal to grind into itself. Under the strain like it had been, the whole foot was ready to come off. He really had to be mindful of it now. He tighten up the screw more than it should be, making the foot stiff. As an added precaution, he used the sock that was on the foot and tied it around the joint. He put his shoe back on and looked up and took a breath and slumped.

He should have never come here. This entire experience was a nightmare. First the abandoned studio, then the ink machine, then the Boris corpse, and now a Bendy? An actually living, breathing Bendy, even though he was off-model. Henry rested his head in his hands and closed his eyes trying to understand it all. Nothing made sense here.

He opened his eyes and stood up. Now more than ever, he needed to get out of the studio, but there was only one way out of the room he was currently in. A staircase that would lead him down further into the depths of the studio. Steeling his guts, Henry made his way to the stairs.

The now adjusted foot was stiff to walk in, but Henry managed it, even if his limp was even worse without the flexible joint . Without railing, Henry had to use the wall to walk down the stairs, taking a step at a time so he wouldn’t trip.

When he reached the bottom, the flood of ink was still there, but thankfully the valve to drain it was just a couple of steps away. Already covered in ink, Henry just walked right into the ink, mindful of any hidden steps. He turned the wheel, and just like the last one, the ink quickly drained away. The roof was leaking, but there was nothing he could do about that but walk around it. He reached the flood again, and found the valve and once again the ink drained away.

He opened the door that was partially covered in ink to a small room and made his way in and was once again greeted with another message written on the wall.

“ _’The creator lied to us?’_ Geeze, who ever gave you that idea?” He sarcastically said to the wall and look towards he hallway that was boarded up. Grabbing a plank, Henry yanked, hoping that age would make them loose, but to no avail. The wood would not budge.

“Would be really helpful if I had an a-” he mumbled as he turn around and spotted an axe, on the table at the opposite side of the room. It seemed rather convenient to him. He walked over and picked up axe and hefted it in his hand feeling its weight. It was way too much of a coincidence for his liking having the axe just sitting there.

Henry didn’t dwell on it and moved to the boards and started to hack at them. The axe cleaved right through the wood with no problems. He broke just enough for him to squeeze though the remaining planks. Loose wooden planks scattered the hallway and he was sure to carefully step over them, good foot first. He reached a boarded up door. Breaking them down was no problem for the axe though.

Henry gripped the handle and turned the knob and slowly opened the door and peaked inside. He looked in and paused. In the room was a large occult circle on the floor with lit candles sitting on its outter most circle. Closed coffins lined the back wall.

Swallowing, he opened the door further, and quietly moved into the room, slowly closed the door behind him. He glanced around the room and he held the axe up, expecting something or someone to jump out. He saw a door in a darkened corner of the room and inched his way to it making sure to stay away from the circle.

Halfway there, the room began the shake. “An earthquake?!” Henry quickly forgot about being silent and looked around the room alarmed. He needed to find somewhere safe!

He was about to dash to the door when a splitting pounding pain suddenly appeared in his head. He grunted in pain and dropped the axe and grabbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Images appeared behind eyes in quick flashed, startling him cause him to stumble back, and into the circle. The Ink machine was first, then his wheelchair, and then finally a silhouette of Bendy reaching out to him.

The pain became too much for Henry however as he fell over and he fainted. The last thing he saw was a ghostly white figure standing in the corner of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Surgery was good, and I've healed up fine! Now a got this nice looking scar along my spine. I can't wait to make up stories about it lol!
> 
> I wrote about 2000 more words that I originally expected for this chapter. Need to get this story rolling!


End file.
